Wednesday, July 1, 2020



History shall cease
to exist
Nothing of it
shall remain
To be repeated…
The pompous Sapiens
Who prided
In wearing time
Around their wrists,
Shall run out of it…
The clock is almost done
Coming a full circle…
All the tenses
shall merge-
Past, Present and Future…
And Time will hit
its primordial flatline again….

© Antara Banerjee, 2020


My verses hang
like severed limbs
of slaughtered animals,
hooked to the ceiling
of the abbatoir-
the slaughter house
of reality.
The bloodied fingers
still twitch
to grasp the truth,
that lies scattered on the gory floor
among the splinters of bones
and offals-
remains of
the martyrs of reason
and the victims of deceit.

I wish my verses
to embrace the truth once,
before rigor mortis sets in.
What have they to lose?
The holocaust is complete
Human extinction
dawns upon the planet-
like a boon!


Mother earth is tired,
sick to her guts.
with what she thought
was the best out of her womb...

She had birthed man
and placed him
in the cradle of nature,
ever so lovingly.
Given him the best
that she possessed...
She had nurtured him
to be the worthiest of all.
Blessed him
with a million boons.

Little did she know
that her favourite child
would grow up
to be corrupted by the
Oedipus Complex,
With a rabid desire
to consummate his libido
with its own mother...
the child would forge
its own death!

He ravages her
And loses a boon
each time
he commits the crime.
Million to thousands
and thousands
to hundreds...
the boons have eroded.

The shamed
and ravaged mother
tries to save her child
from her own wrath...
She lunges
to smother him
and yet refrains...
But each lunge
brings her closer to revenge...
The end of her favourite child...
A lethal blow...
The Apocalypse!


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